Helping Hand of a Friend
by Jobeth-S
Summary: This story takes place right after Regina dinks the infertility potion. Quite dark. Trigger warning for the presence of blood and infertility. Will continue with my head canon about the frendship between Regina and a certain dragon.


The blood only comes about an hour later; after she finally felt her soul calming down, after she wasn't constantly thinking about what had occured during the evening, how she had to hurt herself to be able to chase her mother away.

Despite all the pain, there is a small smile forming at the corner of her lips, because this is her victory. She found the way to fight back. She was strong enough to carry her act through, and she even thought that she was strong enough to pay any price she must face.

Because magic always comes with a price, she remembers fearfully as she stands next to her bath-tub, ready to take a well-deserved bath. That is when she realizes that paying that price is just about to begin, as suddenly the pain returns, forcing her body to bend in half.

The room is so dark that the puddle forming under her looks like black ink. She can't look at it for long. The sight makes her stomach turn, and she is confused and feels weak, because never in her life has the sight of blood made her feel sick. And maybe the explanation is that she sees it so much more than just blood. She sees the poison in it, dark, sticky and cold. Like death.

Death.

No one is ever going to love her - how right her mother was.

She is going to die lonely. Not today, though right now she feels the death closer than ever.

She feels it on her tights and under her feet and it is too much. Too warm and yet too cold, too dark and too revolting. She wants it off of her skin. She wants it out of her. She wants it to stop.

She tries to wipe the blood from her legs with vague, sloppy movements, her breathing quickening, and panic tightening her chest. She feels the dark and sticky liquid now coating her fingers too, and it is death for sure. It's poison.

She is desperate to step away from the puddle, knees weak and shaking, body still bent in half, but everything is so slippery. And then with the next constricting pain in her belly comes a stong push of numbness in her head. She defeats it but only until the next wave follows not so long after. And this time the numbness makes her mouth fill with acidic saliva, and she feels herself getting weaker. She feels herself losing this battle. Her body has to surrender to the poison, so she falls heavily, right into the the black mess forming under her.

She lies there on her side naked, curled up, like a fetus in it's m… No, that's not the time to think about that. To be honest, there never be a time any more to think about that. There won't be a life inside her, ever, and her throat tightens at that thought just as her belly still keeps tightening, again and again. She tries to massage the pain away but there is no strength left, even in her fingers. Finding the irony in her helpless state, she starts laughing, a deep, crazy sound coming from deep inside her. She laughs at the world and at her mother, because she knows that even this is not going to break her. It's only going to make her stronger.

She just wishes that no one will come to look for her before she is able to stand up and take care of herself. Not before she is able to conjure her magic again - she couldn't stand that humiliation.

She will just rest here for a while, until it passes. It is going to be over soon. So she just stares at the floor she is lying on, finally having time to study the liquid more accurately. Calmsess washes over her when she sees that it's red. It is simply blood, nothing else. And she just blinks lazyly, watching contently as the edge of the puddle comes closer and closer to her face. She finds it strange, but she can't tell why. She can't think anymore, but it's fine. The only thing that matters is that it's just her blood and so it's not death covering her inside-out.

What wouldn't she give to have a blanket over herself. She shivers slightly before her eyes close.

* * *

„What the hell are you doing?" She groans, when she sees tousled blond hair in front of her and feels a warm hand tingling with magic resting on her lower belly. She knows this hair, as beautifully messy as it is and she knows that hand too, fingers slender and soft.

TBC

Reviews are appreciated!

Many thanks to my beta: longlivethe-evilqueen on tumblr, RowArk here. I'm littlejoregal on tumblr.


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